


Mindsight

by actualgayrobot



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Mind Reading, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualgayrobot/pseuds/actualgayrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Washington has had the ability to read minds his whole life, but Tucker's thoughts are new territory. Set sometime in Season 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mindsight

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the otp prompt "Imagine if person A of your OTP could read minds and knew all the dirty thoughts person B was having."

Agent Washington had seen some shit.

It wasn’t just from being a part of the war. It wasn’t just from being a freelancer. Oh, no. he had seen some shit long before that.  
And after. And during.

You see, Washington had a… gift. He could read minds.

He wasn’t exactly sure why. He wasn’t exactly sure how. All he knew was that he was born with it, most likely, and at a young age, it was hard to control.

Growing up was hell due to it. The thoughts of people around him always flooded him, waves of emotion, words and images. The more people in the room, the more jumbled the thoughts were, mixing together with other peoples’ thoughts.

Washington did what he had to, as a child. He learned to control it. To filter the thoughts he read, to block the thoughts he didn’t wish to hear. Of course, it wasn’t exactly _effortless_ ; anytime he was caught off guard, his focus would fall, bringing other peoples’ thoughts into his mind again.

But, it was at least manageable.

By the time he was a part of Team Blue, an ex-freelancer and expert at many things combat, his mind-reading “gift” wasn’t anywhere near the front of his mind. It was second-hand nature, the few slips of reading his comrades’ thoughts few.

That is, of course, until one particular day.

Washington had just spent hours drilling Tucker practically non-stop, which pissed off the soldier to no end.

“This is pointless,” he complained, hands on his knees and he gasped for breath, “this is completely _pointless_.”  
“Quit your complaining, Tucker. Another lap, let’s go.”  
“Fuck you,” Tucker spat, pushing himself up and running forward, knocking shoulders with Washington as he passed.  
 _More like fuck **me** , you gorgeous bastard._

Needless to say, Washington was surprised. Partially because he hadn’t slipped and read someone’s mind in a long while and partially because, well, Tucker’s thought was a bit _odd_. The sentence itself wasn’t the problem—that was definitely something Tucker would say—it was the fact that it was directed at Washington.

_That’s… not right,_ Washington thought, _I must’ve heard him wrong._  
Of course, that was a ridiculous notion and he knew it. The thoughts he heard or saw were always clear in his mind, more so than his own thoughts.  
Still, Tucker calling Washington a “gorgeous bastard”? It was… well, it was certainly _new_.

Washington realized he was smiling.

He shook it off. He wasn’t going to let himself find joy in this. He wasn’t going to invade Tucker’s personal thoughts again, accident or not, simply because Tucker thought he was gorgeous.  
No. Washington was not going to do it.

Except he did.

The next time he read Tucker’s mind, they were eating lunch with Caboose.

Caboose was talking excitedly about Freckles to Washington and, though he was trying to entertain Caboose by listening, he couldn’t exactly ignore Tucker staring at him. It was only a few seconds, but Wash caught it, and thought it as good a time as any to read his mind again.

_Goddamn, look at his lips. Why do they look so fucking soft?_  
Washington smirked at that, feeling oddly satisfied.  
 _Look at his stupid grin. What the fuck is he so smug about?_

He loved this. Washington knew he shouldn’t, but he really did.

Wash stood from the table, “Better finish up, Tucker. We have more training to do.”  
 _Only if training is code for ‘hot, kinky sex’._  
“What are we doing?”  
“Leg work.”  
“Ugh.”  
 _Goddamn it. One day I’ll get him in bed. One day I’ll show him_ real _leg work_.

Wash was tempted to take him up on that offer.  
Well, it wasn’t technically an offer, seeing as it was technically a simple thought in Private Tucker’s mind. Still, Washington wanted to see Tucker’s so-called “real” leg work.

The next time Washington read Tucker’s mind, he found that Tucker was no longer thinking about Wash in terms of sentences. He was thinking about Wash in song.

He tuned himself in and out of Tucker’s thoughts, trying to keep at least partially focused on training.  
Unfortunately, Tucker’s thoughts seemed to just draw him in.

_I wanna fuck you like an animal, Wash heard Tucker sing in his head as he jogged by, running laps as per Wash’s orders._

Next, Washington had just sent Tucker through an obstacle-course, when he heard the soldier think-sing, _You and I, baby, are nothin’ but mammals, so let’s do it like they do it on the discovery channel!_

Even when Tucker was on the ground, refusing to move and continue training, when he was thinking, _Oh, I love the feeling you bring to me, oh you turn me on._

“Don’t think you’re done, Private,” Washington said, looking down at Tucker, who was still mentally belting out the lyrics to a S&M song.

“Oh, but I _am_ done. I am most definitely _done_ with your _fucking training_.”

“Well, that wasn’t what I intended to be training you on, but at least you’ve learned something.”

Tucker almost bolted up at that comment, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. Did you just crack a _sex_ joke?”

Huh. So he did. He blamed the songs he’d been hearing all morning.

“I guess I did. Wanna hear another one? Why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“Uhm. Well. I.”

“Wow. Lavernius Tucker, speechless? Maybe I should do this more often.”

_Holy fucking shit, Wash, you have no idea what you do to me._

“Alright, go and get yourself some lunch, then,” Washington finally decided, glancing up at the midday sun before heading back into the base.

Tucker seemed pretty out of it, Washington noticed, for the rest of the day. Washington left Tucker and his thoughts alone—he had his limits, after all. No need to turn his peaks into Tucker’s mind into blatant prying.  
He was tempted to check what Tucker was thinking, though, when he saw the private stare at Washington like he was _determined_.

Once the day was done and Washington was out of his armor and lounging in bed, he heard a knock at the door.  
He was about 99% sure it was Tucker.  
If he had made some kind of bet with someone, he would’ve won.

Washington tried to be professional, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, “Tucker, shouldn’t you be sleeping? You need your rest for tomorrow.”  
Tucker was smiling right back, “I’ve decided to show you what I’ve learned.”  
Washington raised an eyebrow, “You gonna show me what real leg work is?”  
“You bet your ass I will.”

Tucker’s smile then disappeared, replaced with a look of confusion, “Wait. When did I say…”  
“Around the same time you said training better be code for hot, kinky sex.”  
Tucker just looked more confused.  
“I should probably tell you that I’ve been reading your mind for the past few days.”

Tucker stared at Wash for a minute before responding, “Bullshit.”  
“I’m serious.”  
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you can read _minds_. How stupid do you think I am?”  
“I can prove it.”  
“Yeah? What am I thinking about right now?”  
“A monkey with a sombrero. Have you been spending too much time with Caboose?”  
“Damn it. How did you manage to guess that?”  
“Didn’t guess. Just like how I’m not about to guess that you think my lips look soft.”

Tucker was shocked to silence at that.  
“No way. No fucking way. There’s no fucking _way_ that you can read minds.”  
“If I can’t read minds, I must’ve imagined all your singing this morning.”

Tucker let out a groan, “Are you fucking _kidding_ me? That’s great. That’s just _wonderful_. I’ve been pining over you and you’ve just been laughing at me this whole time?”  
“Not laughing. I’ve been more flattered than anything.”  
“Flattered. Really.”  
“Yes, really. Now are you going to let me kiss you, or are you going to stand in the hallway all night?”

Tucker pushed Wash back, squeezing himself into the ex-freelancer’s room and closing the door behind him.  
Tucker was pressed against the closed door, Wash’s face so close that their noses were almost touching. “You owe me, Wash,” Tucker said, his voice low, “You owe me _big_.”  
“I think you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me,” Wash said, slipping his hands up Tucker’s shirt.  
“Fuck you,” Tucker said, only half-heartedly.  
“More like fuck _me_ , you gorgeous bastard,” Wash retorted, leaning closer to press his lips to Tucker’s neck.

Tucker took a deep breath, finding it increasingly difficult to stay angry at Washington, “I really hate you sometimes.”  
Wash simply smiled against Tucker’s neck, “I know.”


End file.
